


Give Your Smile To Me

by plinys



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This isn’t Pretty Woman,” Skye reminds him, and herself, at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Your Smile To Me

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon on tumblr that prompted: "I always like this au and it was small subplot in your the way our horizons Skye being an escort and Lance hires her for reasons he keeps seeing her and they end up having feelings."
> 
> So I kind of bent your prompt, but I got a bit inspired and wrote this little thing.

The first time she gets hired by him he doesn’t even register on her radar.

It’s a paycheck, a man who is slightly drunk, prattles on about his ex-wife for about five minutes, before she can finally get him to shut up and do what he paid her for.

“I’m a prostitute, not a therapist” Skye reminds him, once they’re finished fucking, “I’m not qualified to give you relationship advice and honestly, the advice I would give would be to forget the ex-wife and call me again, because I like good business.”

He laughs at that as if it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day, “at least you’re honest, love.”

“I’m always honest,” she lies, before pulling back on her dress, “call me again sometime,” she calls over her shoulder on her way out- like she does with every customer.

She doesn’t honestly expect him to call back.

But he does.

Not two days later she’s back there again in an unfamiliar hotel room for take two.

Then there’s take three.

And four.

And it just keeps happening.

Again and again and again.

Until it’s been a month and she’s seen him at least four times a week and that can’t be easy on anybody’s pocket book.

She finds herself mentioning that as she pulls of her heels one night.

He just smirks at her in reply, “don’t worry, love, I make enough.”

And Skye can’t help herself from being a bit curious, not because she’s into him or anything (most certainly not), but because they’ve slept together enough she feels entitled to the knowledge, “let me guess, trust fund?”

“Nope,” he says, as he slides the suit jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor where it will no doubt get wrikled.

“Investment banker,” she asks, because the curiosity is sort of killing her, “Movie director? International con man-“ and that gets a laugh, “Politician,” a groan, “Web developer? Doctor?”

“Lawyer,” he answers for her, clearly done with the game, but smirking nonetheless “a very overpriced lawyer from a very fancy law firm that caters to all those fancy tilted people that you just mentioned.”

“Interesting,” she says, before crossing the distance between them like she always does and getting down to the real business that they’re there for.

Skye takes control because that’s what he likes, after three nights of them together she’d been able to figure that out. And by now she knew every move to make, everything to say to get the businessman panting out her name as he came and begging for her to come back another night.

She reasoned that the only reason she cared was because repeat customers meant a steady income, but who was she kidding.

“This isn’t Pretty Woman,” Skye reminds him, and herself, at the same time.

Because it’s a point that they both so clearly need to be reminded of.

“I know,” he replies lazily, half-heartedly clearly not listening to her.

So she pushes him back down onto the bed in a far too familiar way, and tries to make the point more clear.

 “I don’t need some rich guy to sweep me off my feet and promise to treat me right or that I’ll never have to do this job again- because I like my work. I make the same hourly wage as a lawyer,” she tugs at his tie as she says those words, “with half the effort. I like my job and my life style and you can keep hiring me night after night, because you’re still not over your ex-wife and you need a nice fuck, that’s fine, as long as you remember that things stay that way.”

“Got it,” he quips back, holding up three fingers, “scouts honor, I won’t fall in love with you.”

“Why do I feel like you were never a boy scout,” she asks, as her fingers deftly unbutton his shirt.

“Lucky guess?”

She just rolls her eyes and shoves his shirt off his shoulders, before reaching out to unzip her dress. Only to find hands against her own a moment later helping with the tricky zipper in a way that he hasn’t done in all of their nights before. Normally he just lays there and watches the show that he’s paid but this time- it’s different.

“Question though,” he asks, once the dress has fallen onto the ground.

“Yes,” she arches a brow at him, and settles backwards so that she undo her own bra.

“What if I already _have?”_

 


End file.
